


Worth It

by regnantqueen



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27579629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regnantqueen/pseuds/regnantqueen
Summary: When Parker Meng and Wyatt Quitter meet at the Olympic Glames, neither can think of a reason they never got together. But neither one of them is sure they're worthy of something good.Written for the Hades Olympic Glames.
Relationships: Parker Meng/Wyatt Quitter
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker trains with "help" from the Lovers.

Parker was in the middle of a bench press set, with Knight spotting her, when Kichiro wandered into the Polyhedron weight room on the first day of the Grand Siesta.

“Ooh! Weight big!” Kichiro said, making her eyes wide in faux-disbelief. “Parker strong!”

“Indeed, dear Kichiro!” Knight said. “Parker has stepped up her weight for this exercise today - she is indeed very strong!”

Parker was starting to develop a theory about Knight; it wasn’t, she suspected, that they didn’t have a sense of humor. Their humor was just so dry that nobody noticed it. She narrowed her eyes at Knight suspiciously as she completed the last rep; Knight’s visored helm of a face looked back with blank innocence that she didn’t find at all persuasive.

“What can I say,” she said, breathing heavily, sitting up as Knight placed the barbell carefully back in its stand. “Some of us have muscles instead of magic metal arms, we need to keep in shape. And some of us have muscles, period,” she added, raising an eyebrow at Kichiro.

Kichiro stuck out her tongue. “Hey, I’ve got muscles for days, meathead,” she said, playfully holding up a modest but undeniably well-defined bicep. “I’m just not such a fanatic that I’m lifting weights on the first day of, like, the second off-season we’ve ever had.”

“It is true, dear Parker,” Knight said, “that Percival shall host a Movie Knight soon that I would like to attend.”

“‘Movie Knight’?” Parker asked, brow furrowed. Somehow she could hear the capitals, and the letter K.

“We’re gonna watch A Knight’s Tale,” Kichiro said, grinning at Parker’s annoyance. “You know, with Hleath Ledger. Everyone’s going, even Kennedy’s gonna swing by. How did you not hear about this?”

“Indeed, Parker, it is the talk of entire the team,” Knight said. “I must say, thou hast maintained a singular degree of focus on thine workout routine during this post-season.”

“Yeah, Parker, what gives?” Kichiro asked. “I mean you work hard all season long, but usually you’d be trying to chat up a new honey on twitter on the first day of siesta.”

Parker hadn’t told anyone why she was stepping up her workout. But they were both watching her expectantly. She sighed, walked over to her gym bag, and pulled out a flyer. She handed it to Knight.

“Oho!” Knight exclaimed after a moment. “Leave it to thee, Parker!”

“What?” Kichiro demanded, slowly smiling in anticipation of something new to tease Parker with.

Knight cleared their throat “The notice reads: The first Hades Olympic Glames! Revelry and Rivalry on the banks of the River Styx!”

“Oh my gods.” Kichiro looked at Parker with undisguised glee. “You jock.”

“There follows a list of events,” Knight continues, “of which one is circled: weightlifting!”

“You hopeless, hopeless, meathead!” Kichiro laughed. She affected a deep voice: “‘Hello Parker, no blaseball for a bit, go ahead and take a break!’” Then she pivoted into a frustratingly good Parker voice. ‘Thank you, Ms. Coin, finally I can try another splort, maybe the most ridiculous splort I can think of with no skill, just lifting things above my head!”

“Now Kichiro,” Knight interrupted, “weightlifting is indeed a splort demanding great discipline and, yea, also technique and skill, which is no doubt why our redoubtable teammate chose it!”

“Nah,” Kichiro opined, “she just wants girls to swoon when she lifts them up.”

Parker rolled her eyes. “Yes, Keech, got it in one. Which is why I really do need to be getting back to my workout. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Indeed, Parker!” Knight proclaimed, putting an arm over Parker’s shoulder and pulling her close, “this quest is an ambitious one, and thou must work hard if thou shalt have any hope of final victory in the Glames. And thou knoweth what that means!” Kichiro and Parker made eye contact. _Oh no, are they about to say what I think they’ll say?_ Kichiro’s eyes said. _Yes, Parker’s eyes said back. Thank you very much for sticking your nose in._

“Thy quest, good Parker, is now the team’s quest! We shall spot thee, coach thee, schedule thy time, carefully manage thy diet, and accompany thee to the Glames!”

“Or,” Kichiro said, ferociously backpedaling. “We could have a nice chill siesta?”

Knight laughed. “Thy humor never fails, Kichiro! Now quickly - to Movie Knight!”


	2. Quitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quitter arrives for the Olympic Glames and checks out the competition.

If you’d asked Wyatt Quitter two seasons ago, “which Olympic event would you be most likely to compete in that wasn’t baseball,” weightlifting would have been near the bottom of their list. A season with the...well, the Lift... had changed a lot. 

And if they focused on that, they could ignore the changes a full season with the Pods had wrought. 

The Lift’s participation in the Glames was enthusiastic, to say the least, but relatively few of them were actually weightlifting. Discus, javelin, shotput, gymnastics, wrestling, judo, and track had all attracted some of Quitter’s new teammates. Only Stijn Strongbody stood with them after the opening ceremonies in a loose cluster with the other weightlifter competitors. Or more accurately, was next to them doing push-ups. “One more day, Quitter! I’m ready to liiiiiiift! I’m psyched! Are you psyched?!”

Quitter watched their musclebound teammate bob up and down; Stijn had four arms, and he alternated which pair was doing the lifting every rep.“We’ve got swole,” Quitter replied absently, lips pursed, returning to scanning the competition.

“They’re not huge on getting psyched,” said a familiar voice behind them.

Quitter’s first reunion with Wyatt Pothos had been emotional, and even if they didn’t run to embrace their old teammate now, Pothos still earned a big grin and playful punch on the shoulder, which for Quitter was a pretty big deal. 

“Should have known I would have seen you here, ya big musclehead,” they told Pothos, playfully squeezing Pothos’ rock-hard bicep. 

“Someone’s gotta take home the gold,” Pothos answered, returning Quitter’s gentle punch. “Hey there,” she continued, turning to Stijn. “Wyatt Pothos, put ‘er there.”

“Whoaa.” Stijn’s eyes got wide and he reached out with one of his four arms to shake her hand. “Stijn Strongbody. I’m a big fan, Ms. Pothos.” 

“Heh. Thanks, kid.” And Quitter thought they detected, in the ironic quirk of Pothos’ crooked smile, a very familiar feeling. I was a Pod. Why the hell are you all being so nice to me? 

“How’s the competition look?” Pothos asked, shifting attention out towards the field of weightlifters Quitter had been considering. 

Quitter shrugged. “Meh.”

“Oh really? That goth who used to be on the Lovers?” 

Quitter looked at Pothos for a moment, honestly incredulous, and then saw she was joking. “Cute.”

“Nobody who can outLIFT the LIFT!” Stijn said, flexing. “Uh, present company excluded, Ms. Pothos.” 

“Call me Pothos,” Pothos answered, with an equanimity in which Quitter could detect a trace of annoyance. Stijn could do that, until you got used to him. 

“NaN?” Pothos said, and Quitter instantly scanned the field. They hadn’t missed their own and Pothos’ old teammate before; rather, NaN was walking up to the field, struggling to carry a bag of weights, walking behind…

“Oh, and Parker Meng,” Quitter added. Something about the way they said it earned them a look from Pothos, which they returned quizzically. 

“Let’s go say hi,” Pothos said, breaking off the look. “Nice to meet you, Stijn. Good luck out there.” 

“We’ve got swole!” Stijn called, as they left. 

“Seems nice,” Pothos remarked, returning NaN’s energetic wave as they approached. “What’s we’ve got swole?” 

“Team motto,” Quitter explained. “Halfway between ‘hell yeah’ and ‘love ya, bro’.” 

“I have to say, the Lift seems like the least Wyatt Quitter team imaginable.” 

“You’d be surprised.” As was Quitter, at having said that, and finding they meant it. The (admittedly bro-ey) camaraderie, the constant focus on working out and self-improvement - there were worse ways to spend the season after something terrible happened. 

And then they reached NaN, who released their bag of weights with a clank. “Hi Quitter! Hi Pothos!” 

“C’mere, you big glitch,” Pothos said warmly, wrapping NaN in a hug. It was a fitting endearment; NaN was what remained when their old teammate, Wyatt Mason, had gone...well, wherever he had gone. NaN’s form was shifting, static-y, shadowy. That plus big platter eyes and a sweet smile. Quitter just nodded a greeting. 

“Tell me you’re not competing in weightlifting,” Pothos told them. “Blaseball can’t have changed that much.”

“Nope!” NaN beamed. “I’m Knight Triumphant’s squire now, but they asked me to be Parker’s squire for the glames.” 

“Let’s say ‘assistant,’” Parker put in, putting down her own more substantial bag of weights. “Hey, Pothos. Hey, Quitter.” 

Parker Meng was about Pothos’ height, meaning she had a good six inches plus on Quitter. She was fat - her word, shared over beers in one of several hundred Los Angeli that she and Quitter had traversed during Siesta a few years ago - dark-eyed, dark-haired. She still wore her hair in the familiar undercut she’d maintained as long as Quitter had known her. She wore jeans and a leather jacket today instead of her bright pink and red Lovers uniform or the athletic gear favored by most of the athletes. 

She looked subtly different. It was in her arms and shoulders - strong. She’d been prepping for this. 

“Hey, Parker,” Quitter said back.

Pothos was looking at them again, for some reason.


	3. Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker and Quitter catch up over beers. Parker runs into her girlfriend.

That night, at an ad hoc beer garden on the banks of the Styx, Parker found herself at a table with Alaynabella Hollywood, trying to explain that she was, in fact, competing in the Glames.

“No, see, I’m here for the weightlifting competition.”

“Oh, is a Lover in weightlifting?” Alaynabella looked thoughtful. “Is it Percival Wheeler? She’s ripped.”

“She is,” Parker explained patiently, “but actually I’m…”

“Percival Wheeler is absolutely shredded. I once saw her rip a phonebook in half with one hand.”

Parker blinked. “No, she’s...wait, with one hand? Is that a joke?”

“Obviously. So is she?”

“No, it’s…”

“Is it Knight Triumphant?”

“Actually, it’s Parker Meng.” Quitter appeared at Parker’s shoulder.

“Ohh! Why didn’t you say so?!” Alaynabella laughed. Parker blinked and held her tongue.

“Mind if I join you?” Quitter asked.

“Please,” Parker said.

“Take my spot - diving is first thing tomorrow, I’m going to turn in early. Good chatting with you, Parker! And good to see you, Quitter. Good to see you’re, uh, you. Again.”

“Yeah.” Parker caught a very subtle twitch of Quitter’s mouth, almost invisible. Definitely not a smile. “Later, Alaynabella.” Quitter took the other player’s spot, and then sighed. Parker regarded them seriously.

“You must get that a lot.”

Quitter raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Sorry.” Parker shook her head. “Nothing. Thanks for the save there.”

Quitter shrugged. “Alaynabella’s nice, but I guess she doesn’t know the Lovers rotation very well.”

“Huh?” Parker took a moment to try and follow the leap of logic. “What do you mean?”

“Percy’s amazing, but anyone who’s played the Lovers enough knows you’re their strongest pitcher. I didn’t say best,” they added quickly, seeing Parker was already opening her mouth to object, “I said strongest, like physically. It’s the late-inning endurance, gives it right away. And also she’d know that, you know, you love to compete so much you’d do something crazy like train for a big random splorting event instead of enjoying your Siesta.”

Parker grinned, both at the compliment and the joke. “What about you, then? I have to admit my first thought when I heard about the glames wasn’t, ‘Oh, Quitter’s going to be all over this.’”

Quitter shrugged and took a pull of their beer. “Kind of a team bonding thing. The Lift were all about it.”

Parker could feel that it wasn’t a complete answer, just like she could sometimes tell when a batter had already decided to swing away at the next pitch and she should throw outside. She waited patiently, and sure enough, after a long pause Quitter continued. “Kind of nice to be around people right now, I guess. When I spend too long by myself I get to thinking about…” They shrugged. Parker’s eyes focused involuntarily on Quitter’s white hair. It was black before their time on the Pods.

“That really sucks, Quitter,” she said. She reached out and laid a hand gently, momentarily, on Quitter’s. “I still think about our trip out into the Los Angeli a lot. You me and Farrell going from world to world...it’s a happy memory. But...a lot of time alone with our thoughts, I guess. Even though we had each other.”

“Exactly.” Quitter closed their eyes for a moment and took a breath. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“That’s alright. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

Quitter shrugged. “You didn’t. You’re easy to talk to.”

Parker grinned and waved a hand, happy to change the subject. “Tell that to half the league! I know I can be intense, I’m probably the last person they’d say is easy to…”

“Then screw ‘em.” Quitter interrupted. They raised their glass to Parker in salute, and then kicked it back and finished it off.”

Now Parker laughed. “I’ll drink to that. Except I’m empty.” She looked over at the bar. “You want another one?”

Quitter got a small smile, surprisingly sweet. “Sure, hit me.”

* * *

Parker went to the bar and ordered two more lagers. While they were being poured, she felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to see the smiling face of Helga Moreno. “Hey blabe!” They kissed briefly. “I thought you weren’t coming in until tomorrow!”

“Change of plans, I figured out how I could get everything done in San Francisco with just Burton. I just wanted to say hi, though.” She winked. “I don’t mean to cramp your style.”

Parker laughed, confused. “My style?”

“With Quitter.” She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“Aw, it’s not like that.” Parker risked a glance back at Quitter’s table; fortunately Quitter was tapping on their phone and didn’t notice the scrutiny. “We’re just catching up.”

“If you say so.” Helga shrugged. “And that’s all you want?”

Parker slowly smiled and shook her head. She’d spent a lot of time with Helga since she arrived in this dimension, more than even a lot of her teammates realized (Helga’s two bodies made it easy for that to happen just by accident). “Ok, you got me, they’re cute as hell.”

“Plus Lift life clearly agrees with them,” Helga suggested, and yes, Parker had definitely noticed the extra definition on Quitter’s arms.

“Yes, ok. But…” She’d been thinking about Quitter since she ran into them after opening ceremonies, thinking about how the two of them had never quite had a chance to happen. And also trying to push the thought down. “I think they just need a friend, right now. They’ve been through a lot.”

Helga shrugged. “Ok. I hear that. But remember you get to need things too, blabe.” Helga leaned in and kissed her again. “Text me if you’re free later.”

“If I’m free?” Parker rolled her eyes playfully.

“Hey, never say never! That would make you…”

Parker winced. “Please spare me.”

Helga didn’t. “...a quitter!”


	4. Quitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quitter leaps to conclusions.

When Parker went to get another round, Quitter pulled out their phone and messaged Pothos.

Quitter: _hey, what do you think of meng_

Pothos: _don’t know her as well as you, but she seems cool_

Pothos: _you gonna make a move?_

Quitter: _x_x_

Pothos: _aww live a little_

Quitter: _Get your mind out of the gutter_

Pothos: _i saw you checking her out today, she got swole huh_

Quitter: _fuck offffff_

Pothos: _ask her out_

Quitter: _I’m not 12_

Pothos: _no you’re a full grown adult who can ask out a girl you like if you want_

Quitter grinned involuntarily at their phone. They typed, _yeah, I guess I am_. But before they sent it, they glanced up.

Parker was kissing a blonde woman at the bar. Helga Moreno, or, no, she mostly went by just Helga now, since the players officially enrolled as “Helga Moreno” and “Helga Burton” were just two bodies controlled by the same mind. 

They erased the message. Their fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment. Then they put their phone down, feeling stupid. Somehow they’d let Pothos egg them on until they believed they...that Parker might...

Parker said goodbye to Helga, laughing, and came back over to slide a fresh glass of beer to Quitter. “So, tell me about Tokyo!”

Quitter felt suddenly disoriented, outside themself. They took a long swig of their drink, sought for words for a long moment, and then shook their head, standing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you get this. I actually have to go.”

“Oh…well, no worries! I’ll get you next time!”

“Sure.” She was so polite, so chill even though Quitter had been intruding on her time and flirting, or trying to, where she wasn’t wanted. Gah, she was cool. Quitter had to get out of here.

“See you tomorrow,” they blurted, and took off without waiting for a reply. Their phone buzzed and they took it out automatically.

Pothos: _cmon_. _you haven’t been with anyone since it happened._  
_  
_ Pothos: _it’ll be good for you_

Quitter silenced their phone and put it away again. 


	5. Interlude - Helga and the Lovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lovers gather to watch Parker compete.

"Nay, dear Helga.” The next morning, bright and early, Knight Triumphant and Helga sat together with the rest of the Lovers in the bleachers in front of the weightlifting competition. “Parker shall not be competing directly against Quitter. Yea, Quitter stands but five foot three inches tall and weighs 147 pounds, whereas Parker is five foot ten and weighs 232 pounds.”

Kichiro and Theo King sat behind them; Kichiro gave Theo a look. “Knight,” they said after a moment. “How do you know Parker’s exact weight?”

“It’s a little creepy, babe,” Theo opined.

“Ah! The vital stats of all competitors are listed in this Official Program I purchased!” Knight explained, holding up a thick booklet. 

Kichiro shook her head. “Of course you did.” 

“I get the weight category thing,” Theo said, leaning forward, “Like, there’s a medal for people Quitter’s size and one for people Parker’s size and one for, I don’t know, people Pothos’ size, etc, but since Quitter’s non-binary, are they competing in men’s or women’s? Did Parker have to deal with any bullshit about that?” 

“Aha, I see we have an Olympic enthusiast!” Knight enthused.

“Or, like, someone who’s ever watched any Olympic event ever,” murmured Kichiro. 

“Yes, in other Glames athletes are often divided by gender as well,” Knight continued, “but since most of the athletes at these Glames play blaseball, a splort that makes no distinction by gender and celebrates non-binary identities, this event makes no such division.”

“Thank goodness we’re avoiding that whole mess,” Theo said, rolling his eyes. “Ask me about my high school softball career sometime. Or don’t.” 

“Aw, sorry, blabe.” Kichi put an arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze.

“So who is Parker against?” Helga asked. “Who should we be watching out for?” 

“Aye.” Knight shook their head, growing more solemn. “Unfortunately, Parker has a particularly difficult category. As you no doubt know, her personal goal is to medal - to finish first, second or third in her category. But Ren Hunter of the New York Millenials is very likely to win the Gold Medal, which means that Parker will strive for second or third place. Therefore, her top competitors will be Fish Summer, and none other than the Lift’s Stijn Strongbody - although naturally another competitor could emerge as a ‘dark horse.’” 

“Is this really all in the program?” Kichiro asked, leaning forward to try and read over Knight’s shoulder.

“The list of contestants, yes, but I have done my own research. For instance, I ‘worked my connections’ on the New York Millenials to discover that Ren Hunter routinely lifts much more than the personal best of any other competitor in the category, Parker included. Strongbody and Summer both have personal bests that are higher than Parker’s, but their performances are more erratic, probably owing to an emphasis on muscle-building rather than technique in their training. Parker has a good chance of beating one or both of them if she lifts well.” 

Facing stunned stares from their teammates, Knight shrugged. “Parker is my friend and this is important to her. I have learned everything I can.” 

“You’re a real one, Knight,” Kichiro said, leaning back and shaking her head. 

“I’m just glad they’re on our side,” Theo said, laughing.

“Always and forever, beloveds,” Knight answered. They reached down and put a reassuring hand on Helga’s shoulder, and Helga looked up gratefully. 

Knight could tell how tense she was, how much she wanted this for Parker. They were good at that.


	6. Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker has a good round of competition and an awkward conversation with Quitter.

Weightlifting took place in the open air on a platform that had been set up on the grass of the stadium. Three judges sat in folding chairs near the platform, with the fans on the bleachers behind them. Each athlete had three attempts to snatch - a particular lift, where a lifter brought the weight about their head in one motion - with the option to increase the weight between attempts. And all of this was just round one of the competition; medals would be assigned based on a combination of each athlete’s best snatch with their best clean and jerk in round two. 

Parker and NaN were watching as Stijn Strongbody failed to gain control during his third snatch, dropping the weight behind him rather than lifting it over his head. The judges all held up red signs, to indicate the lift wasn’t successful. Stijn already knew, obviously, and slumped off, two hands on his hips and two massaging his temples.

Parker let out a breath, and NaN punched the air. Parker had just completed her own last attempt, setting a new personal best for herself at the snatch; since Stijn hadn’t been able to beat her lift, she was now momentarily in first place - and guaranteed to end the first round in at least third.

Summer and Hunter both completed their lifts - Ren Hunter was way out in first place as expected, with a staggering lift of 210 kilograms - and the snatch was over. NaN threw their arms around Parker, who returned the hug and lifted NaN up off their feet. “Third place!” NaN exalted. “According to the research Ser Knight did, we’re on track to medal!”

Parker put NaN down and this time she took in a breath, willing herself to calm down. “We’re on track,” she admitted, “but it’s still Stijn and Fish’s event to lose.” 

They walked into the locker room designated for weightlifting, below the stands in front of them. The whole Lovers team cheered as they walked by, and Parker was both moved, and grateful when the team finally fell out of sight. “Gods, I’m nervous.”

“Don’t see why.” 

Parker started; she hadn’t seen Quitter waiting just inside the tunnel leading back to the locker room, dim as it was after the late morning sun. “That third attempt was a hell of a lift, Parker.” They started to go for a hug, and then hesitated; Parker started to return it, and then hesitated. They wound up doing a quick, awkward squeeze. 

“Uh, why don’t you go on ahead, NaN,” Parker said. 

“Well...Ser Knight DID give me a very specific cooldown procedure for between the…” 

“I’ll see. You. Soon. NaN.” Parker said, turning away from Quitter to give NaN a communicative look. 

“Oh! Uh, right! I’ll, uh, get the cold packs ready!” And they scampered off. 

Quitter and Parker were quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry about…” they both said. They both stopped.

“Go,” Quitter urged. “You first.” 

Parker took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong last night.”

Quitter’s eyes got wide. “Whaaaaat.” 

“I was thinking about it all night. I just...I mean Quitter, you know you’re a hottie.” 

“I whaaaaat.”

Parker laughed. “Yeah, come on. I always liked you. I was trying to be chill, I wasn’t trying to make anything happen, I get that you need space. But, obviously you saw right through me. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Quitter said nothing for a long moment, and Parker stood there, still sweating and red-faced from her last lift. Well, at least they can’t see me blush, she thought inanely. They just see me looking awful.

“I…” Quitter started. “But you…”

They didn’t seem mad, they seemed confused. And suddenly Parker realized she’d misread the situation; Quitter hadn’t left because they thought she was being too forward. “Oh my gods. This...is embarrassing. I thought...well, I misread the situation. Projected, obviously. Aah I’m sorry Quitter, can we just forget that I…”

“I...I thought…” Quitter had had time to rest since their event, which meant that Parker could see immediately when their cheek reddened. Parker didn’t know how to read that.

And then a voice blared from a loudspeaker, too loud in the close tunnel. “Athletes in the 60 kilogram category, the clean and jerk is about to begin. Please report to the field.” And a stampede of footsteps echoed down the hall as competitors started exiting locker rooms and jogging out for the second round of Quitter’s category. 

“I...have to go,” they sputtered.

Parker nodded, hoping her confusion and uncertainty and...hope...wasn’t too plain on their face. “Good luck.” 

Quitter jogged out into the sunlight, which lit up their exposed, well-defined shoulders. Parker stared after them, and slowly smiled.


	7. Quitter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quitter makes a decision.

Quitter was having the slightly surreal experience of dominating a strength competition. A season with the Lift really had made a difference.

As they waited for their second attempt, they scanned the bleachers. There were several of their new team members, but of course many of them had events going on, or to prepare for. There were a few Tacos players and other assorted friends. And then there were the Lovers. They were out in force for Parker; if the Lift was a team of born competitors the Lovers were a team of born cheerleaders. And though they cheered enthusiastically for everyone, for some reason they had decided to make Quitter their special favorite. 

Helga was in the front row next to Knight Triumphant, one of her bodies, anyway. She was cheering along with the rest, long blonde hair held in place with a Lovers ball cap. Was she cheering a little louder than the others for Quitter in particular? Quitter had seen Parker kiss her. But then, of course they had. The Lovers were all (or mostly) polyamorous, and Parker was dating like three of them, Helga included. Quitter knew that, and they didn’t in particular care. But somehow last night, that kiss had seemed like a rejection.

But Parker hadn’t rejected them, seemingly; she’d been holding back because she thought Quitter wanted space. Which Quitter DID want, so, good instincts there, just...they also wanted other things. 

It was time for their second attempt. Just from completing their first lift at 135kg they were more or less guaranteed a medal, but they’d have to push farther to get gold. They walked out onto the platform and took up a stance over the 140 kg barbell they’d requested. The clean went well and they rested a moment with their shoulders taking some of the weight - but when they tried to lift over their head in the jerk, their breathing and footing was off. They had to drop the barbell early, and it thudded loudly behind them.

“Crap,” they murmured. “Crap!” The crowd collectively gasped, and then applauded politely. 

They stepped off the platform to find Stijn jogging over, interrupting his own cooldown. “Tough one, Quitter! You’ll get it next time, no sweat!” 

Quitter shook their head. “That was awful. My focus was crap. GODS!” There was a waterbottle resting on the ground nearby, abandoned by some distracted athlete. They kicked it hard, realizing too late that it was about three quarters full. A healthy amount of the water splashed over Charlatan Seabright as she approached the platform for her next attempt.

“Hey!” the ghost pirate protested. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Stijn said, imposing himself between them. “They didn’t mean anything by it. Good luck up there!” 

Charlatan made a face, and then sighed. She proceeded to walk onto the podium and lift 140 kg with perfect form.

Stijn winced. “That puts her in first overall, unless…”

“Unless I can lift the same amount,” Quitter said, doing some quick mental math. “I beat her in the snatch. I just need to tie her here.” 

Stijn nodded. “That was her third attempt and she’s the last other person still in this. You need to put the weight in for your final lift. What’s it going to be? 140?”

Quitter chewed their lip. “141.” 

“You don’t need to…”

“Just tell the judges, huh?” Quitter interrupted. “I’ve got to go win a gold medal.” 

Quitter understood the unspoken objection. They didn’t actually need that last kg to win, and you never knew - it could spell the difference between a completion and failing to complete. Quitter’s personal best was actually 143kg, but that just meant any lift anywhere near that was stretching their abilities to the utmost. 

But...Quitter wanted to win this. They wanted to win with style. They had worked hard, and...they deserved it. They wanted to deserve it. 

Whatever had happened while they were on the Pods. 

Stijn ran off to the judge’s table. Quitter stretched their arms, did a squat just to feel their body operating. Officials adjusted the weight on the barbell out on the podium, and there were cheers as the weight Quitter was attempting flashed on the board. The Lovers were going crazy. As they stepped onto the platform, they saw other lifters had stepped out of the locker room to watch. Stijn stood behind the judge’s table, errand done, both sets of hands applauding furiously. Pothos was there, and so was Parker, ice packs strapped to both arms. She nodded as their eyes met. 

Quitter leaned down and performed the clean, pulling the barbell up so it rested on their shoulders - the easy part. Then they closed their eyes and took a breath. _I am here now. I am surrounded by people who support me._

_I am worthy of winning this._

Their legs shot out into a lunge. They exhaled in time with the movement, and lifted their arms into the air. It was a perfect jerk; they waited til they saw all three judges signal the lift was complete, and then just a moment more, for style. 

They’d won.


	8. Parker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Parker makes a decision. It has consequences - mostly good ones.

An hour later, Parker and NaN stood near the lifting podium, and things were not going well.

“I really think we should change the plan, Ms. Meng,” NaN said. Parker had noticed them doing this before when they were nervous, falling back into honorifics.

“Just Parker, NaN,” she corrected, keeping her voice level and flexing her arm back and forth. She’d completed her first attempt but felt something shift in her right shoulder when she did. She hadn’t completed her second after a sharp pain shot up their arm during the clean.

“Sorry, sorry, Ms...Parker. But…” They flexed their fingers nervously. “The plan we worked out with Ser Knight means your next attempt would be a new personal best.”

“I know that, NaN,” Parker said, still calm. “Fish Summer is on fire, he’s got a lock on silver, Stijn’s already pulled even with me. I need to go big.”

NaN shook their head. “You could get hurt, Parker. It’s not worth it.”

Parker shook her head. “I’ve been training for months.”

NaN crossed their arms and Parker sighed. She looked out at the crowd; the Lovers were a sea of pink, boisterous when she was on the podium for a lift but currently relaxed and chatting happily with each other and their neighbors. She picked out Knight, Kichiro, Percy, Helga; Helga was talking to…

To Quitter. They were both laughing at something Helga said. That was...interesting.

“It’s time for your lift, Parker,” NaN said. “Please, think this through. Ask yourself what Knight would say.”

“I’m tired of not winning anything, NaN,” Parker answered. “You know I was a three-time champion back in my home dimension? Here the Lovers have never won a championship, with me or without me. I’m not even the best pitcher on the rotation, Yosh and Jaylen can pitch circles around me.”

NaN shook their head in genuine puzzlement, tinged with frustration. “Why is it so important that you win, Parker? You worked incredibly hard, your whole team is here to support you, everyone has seen you set a personal best today. You don’t have to win, because you’re already amazing.”

Parker was silent for a long time. What would Knight say? she wondered. Or Helga. She could picture them looking at her, with (of course) love.

She knew what they would say.

* * *

An hour after that, Parker sat with the Lovers in the bleachers, with her arm in a sling, and she was watching Ren Hunter get the gold, Fish Summer get the silver and Stijn Strongbody get the bronze.

“I’m sorry, dear Parker,” Knight said. “Thou didst exceptionally well against remarkable competitors.”

“I’m sorry too, Ms...Parker,” NaN said. “I wish…”

“Nah, you did great, NaN.” She put an arm on their shoulder. “Sorry I gave you trouble. Withdrawing was the right thing to do.”

“Saved my girl’s arm,” Kichiro said, giving NaN a warm hug from behind. “She needs that for throwing, or whatever she does on the team.”

“Actually, Knight just keeps me around to babysit you, Keech.” But Parker couldn’t help grinning.

“Plus you’re easy to look at.” Helga walked up, with Quitter behind her, and gave Parker a quick kiss.

“Hell yeah,” Quitter added, with a lopsided smile.

“That looks pretty good too,” Parker said, gesturing at the medal hanging around Quitter’s neck.

“Indeed, congratulations, friend Quitter!” Knight enthused, coming to shake Quitter’s hand. “I witnessed thy final lift with amazement!”

“Yep, it was something,” Helga agreed. Parker caught something in her tone, mischief. “Hey, let’s go say hi to Ren! I’m a big fan.”

“Actually, she’ll probably be swarmed for a little while,” NaN said. “Quitter, I’m really curious, there are a ton of different thoughts on cooldown between rounds, what was your approach to…”

“Nope,” Helga interrupted forcefully. “I think we should definitely go get in line to see Ren. Come on, everyone.”

“Oh ho!” Knight said suddenly. Parker’s felt her cheeks start to burn. “Yes, come NaN. Parker, you stay here and rest.”

NaN frowned. “But…” Knight put an arm around NaN and led them away before they could say anything more. Helga took Kichiro by the arm and they left together, whispering and giggling.

Parker watched them go for a long moment before risking a glance at Quitter. They were grinning. “Your teammates are really something.”

“They’re, uh, good cheerleaders,” Parker said, suddenly bashful.

“Good wingmen too. Wingpeople.” Quitter stepped closer, just a shade closer than they needed to be.

“You were great out there,” Parker said. “Seriously. I came out to watch the last lift.”

“I saw. And you were great too,” Quitter said. “I have to admit I was relieved when they said you were withdrawing. That second attempt looked painful and you can really get hurt if you push so far.”

Parker did her best approximation of a shrug. “I took stock, and...it wasn’t worth the risk. I’m worth more than a bronze medal.”

Quitter nodded seriously. “Yeah. You know, it’s weird, but when I did that last lift, I was kind of thinking the same thing, but like, from the opposite direction?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Parker said. “I think people don’t always get why I care so much about winning, especially on the Lovers. It’s not, like, everyone else sucks, or I have to dominate everything. It’s just...self-respect to try your best.”

Quitter nodded emphatically. “So you try your hardest up until competition gets in the way of self-respect, huh?”

Parker laughed. “I guess so.”

“I think I know what you mean.” Quitter stepped closer again. They were very close now. “Hey, what were you saying earlier? Before I went out for the clean and jerk?”

Parker laughed. “Oh, um…”

“Something about, I think it was that I’m a ‘hottie’?”

“Yeah, well, I think I remember saying that,” Parker said, grinning, and leaned in. “What would you like to know?”

“I don’t know, your girlfriend told me quite a bit about it, actually. She’s nice. Maybe I should ask her out, too.”

“Too?” Parker’s face drifted down toward Quitter, who looked up, presenting their lips.

“HELL YEAH!” Stijn Strongarm shouted, appearing from nowhere and throwing four arms around Quitter. “Gold medal in the 60kg! Bronze medal in the 100kg! We’ve got SWOLE, Quitter! Parker, you were amazing out there, I couldn’t believe it when you beat me in the snatch, but watch out, I’m coming back smarter and stronger next time!”

“Hey, Stijn,” Quitter said. “Congrats. Could you go find Pothos and give her a message for me? It’s important.”

“Anything for you, teammate!” Stihn pulled them close one more time and then stepped back, bouncing on his feet. “What’s the message?!”

“Just tell her she was right,” they said. “She’ll know what it means.”

“You got it, Quitter!” And he was off.

“He’s a good kid,” Quitter said. “But you have to keep him busy. Or he can get in the way.”

And unwilling to delay any further, they reached up and pulled Parker down to kiss them deeply right there on the stadium field.


End file.
